


Growing Pains

by ElfrootAddict



Series: Halla & Wolf [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ancient Elvhen Artefact, Crossroads Village, Gen, Hinterlands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:11:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26320174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElfrootAddict/pseuds/ElfrootAddict
Summary: Change. Growth. Hard truths. As the Inquisition’s Lady Herald, El'lana must step-up and help establish the orders’ influence. Many lessons are learnt and life-altering decisions are made.
Relationships: Cassandra Pentaghast/ Solas, Female Lavellan/ Mihris, Female Lavellan/ Scout Harding, Female Lavellan/Cassandra Pentaghast, Female Lavellan/Solas, Female Lavellan/Varric Tethras, Varric Tethras/ Solas
Series: Halla & Wolf [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828126
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Growing Pains

The month of Firstfall has come around once again in Ferelden and the locals of the Hinterlands are lucky enough not to experience the full-blown, snowy winters of those back in Haven. Nevertheless, the massive expanse of rocky hillside still experiences the icy chilled winds from the Frostback mountains, reminding the locals that no corner of Ferelden can ever truly escape the country’s infamous winter temperatures. 

With Liliana’s scouts guiding their path, the trek to the Hinterlands was easy enough to accomplish. Lana, Cassandra, Varric and Solas were able to get to their destination with relative ease and good speed.

During the day, the conversations between the companions were sparse and polite. Each one trying to save their energy for the long journey they had to make each day by foot. By nightfall, they would quietly share their rations over a small inconspicuous fire, so as to not get any unwanted attention, and then head straight for their tents to get a good night’s rest for an early rise. 

And even though nobody wanted to stay up in the freezing night’s sky and talk, neither one of them quite knew what to say to the other in any way. With the diverse range of cultural, religious and somewhat mysterious differences between the unusual party, neither one of them quite knew how to break the conversational barrier in the first place. 

Therefore, all they could focus on was the one thing they all have in common - to seal the Breach in the sky. And so it is this reason, and this reason only, that Lana the inexperienced Dalish, Cassandra the devout Andrastian, Varric the charming rogue and Solas the esoteric mage, have come together to seek out the potential help of Mother Giselle. A Revered Mother of the Chantry who has insisted on staying in the Hinterlands to help the refugees caught in the middle of the mage-templar war. 

Lana and her companions eventually reach the top of a wide, flat outlier of ground just below the rocky plateau of Lake Luthias. They then catch a glimpse of an Inquisition tent nestled amongst the trees and the group simultaneously release a sigh of relief as they realise they have finally reached the Upper Lake Camp. 

Lana finds herself admiring the inconspicuous camp, and feels its location is perfectly situated. As she catches her breath, Lana starts looking around the snuggled campsite and decides to take in her surroundings; 

On the left, against the embankment of the plateau are massive boulders running all the way along the side and into the distant forest. To Lana’s pleasant surprise, she notices a small waterfall running into a large, shallow, crystal clear pond with lush green lily pads, and spindleweed scattered all along the water’s edge. However, on the right and several paces away from camp, lies a death-defying edge that overlooks almost all of the northern Hinterlands.

Having lived all her life amongst nature as well as helping the Keeper decide on a new place for when her clan needed to move, Lana finds herself impressed by such a good location for a camp. She even feels somewhat proud of this young, virtuous organisation spreading their influence so quickly and putting their words into action. Which isn’t something Lana is accustomed to, being Dalish. 

As proud as she is to be Dalish, Lana knows that the only thing her people have ever truly accomplished is to merely talk about the past and preserve their magic. There has never been an expectation to actually _do_ anything to improve their lives. Just simply ensure they do not forget. 

And while she may wholeheartedly agree that preserving the little knowledge her people have left to remember is excruciatingly important, she has nevertheless always itched to do more than just talk and preserve the past. 

Suddenly a young, plain dwarf with soft freckles to match her auburn hair, and striking green eyes, walks towards Lana and her companions cheerfully, “Lady Cassandra, I’m glad to see you’ve all made it. Welcome to the Upper Lake Camp. I’m Scout Harding.” 

“It is a pleasure to meet you Scout Harding,” greets Cassandra as she extends a polite bow to the dwarf. “Is it the war we’re hearing down below?” 

“I’m afraid so. The mage-templar war has spread far. We believe the templar’s strong hold is just west of here, near the river. They’ve probably found a good flat area to build camp somewhere upstream which is tucked away and off the main road. The mages have been sighted directly north. I’m assuming they’ve found one of the caves nearby.”

“Maker, you seem to know alot about this area.” quips Varric with an impressed chuckle.

“I grew up here,” explains Scout Harding proudly. “As a kid I would always go exploring and I haven’t quite stopped since.” 

“Well then,” adds Cassandra with a sincere sigh of relief. “I can see why Liliana has put you in charge of these scouts. It's a pleasure to have you on board. Let me introduce the rest of the team,” and turns to face each companion as she calls out their name, “This is Solas. A mage who has proven not only to be helpful, but cooperative since the day the Breach came into the sky. This is Varric Tethras. He’s…” Cassandra pauses as she tries her best to find polite words to describe the man who has only made her life hard and strenuous. “A rogue. He’s excellent with his bow.”

“Her _name_ is Bianca,” adds Varric defensively. “And she’s more than just a bow. Don’t mind Cassandra miss Harding, we just have a bit of history. Don’t we, Seeker?”

Cassandra groans and rolls her eyes before moving on, “And this, is mistress Lavellan. The Herald of Andraste.” 

“It is an honour to meet you, Herald,” remarks Scout Harding with a respectful bow as Lana steps slightly closer to the front of the party. “I heard rumours that the Herald was an elf, but I didn’t quite believe it. Until now, of course.”

Lana’s cheeks flash to a soft pink, “Oh?”

“Please, don’t get me wrong!” cries Scout Harding apologetically. “I’m not saying that it's a bad thing. I’m just saying you’re a bit of a surprise.”

Lana releases a soft smile and laughs, “Trust me. I’m more surprised than anyone.”

Suddenly a scout approaches the party in a hurry, “Lady Cassandra, there is a letter here for you.”

Cassandra tales the letter from the young scout. “Thank you,” and turns back around to regard her party. “Excuse me, please. I’ll be back shortly.” 

“Of course,” adds Scout Harding and turns to Lana with her piercing green eyes. “In the meantime, you should know that the mage-templar war is very close by. We’ve already had a few strays from both sides try to infiltrate this camp but luckily we’ve managed to hold them off.”

Lana slowly turns around to see if Scout Harding is actually talking to her. She may have the mark on her hand, which will help close rifts, but she is in no way shape or form able to handle the responsibility of making decisions regarding the Inquisition. She’s just the Dalish elf. Isn’t she?

“How eh…” mumbles Lana eventually as she clears her throat. “Bad is the fighting?”

_Was that the right question?_

“It’s pretty bad,” answers Scout Harding with a heavy heart. “The valley below is where most of the fighting happens, and sometimes all the way through the night. A lot of people have had to leave their homes because of it. Everything is destroyed.”

Listening to Scout Harding’s story makes Lana’s heart ache as she imagines what she would be feeling if this was happening in the Free Marches, “I’m sorry this is happening to your home, Scout Harding. This must be really hard for you.”

“Thank you for saying that,” murmurs Harding with a sincere smile. “And yes, it isn’t easy seeing this place desecrated with such violence. Forcing hundreds of innocent people to leave the homes they’ve had for generations. Luckily, we’ve got the Inquisition though, right? Hopefully we’re going to set things right again.”

“Yes,” murmurs Lana with a gentle smile. “I hope we can.” 

“Would you mind following me, Lady Herald?” asks Scott Harding. “I can show you the lay of the land before you head down there tomorrow.”

“Of course. Lead the way.”

Once Scout Harding turns around and heads towards the forest, Lana quickly spins on her heel to regard Solas and Varric behind her. With wide, panicked tricken eyes, Lana suggestively begs them to come along with her. The two men turn to each other and share a quick smirk amongst themselves at Lana’s reluctance to take lead, and proceed to follow along at a respectable distance. Remaining close enough to hear what Scott Harding has to say, but not too close that Harding would be addressing all three of them at once.

One way or another, Lana is going to have to realise that with her mark and divine title bestowed upon her, people will look to her not only for hope but for guidance, too. Whether she likes it or not. 

Now several paces in the thickets of the forest, Harding, Lana, Varric and Solas eventually reach a clearing that looks out onto the Hinterlands below. The setting sun illuminating the sky with bright pink and orange hues. 

“Do you see that hill in the east?” begins Scout Harding. “Just beyond it you’ll find Mother Giselle in a tiny village. The village is tucked away, so you shouldn’t come across any fighting,” Harding pauses and looks up at Lana with concern. “But you never know, so keep your staff close.”

“How do we get to the village from here?”

“Well, you have two ways from here but I would suggest the second; leave camp the same way you entered but stick east. You’ll pass Calenhad’s Foothold on your left which will then lead you all the way down a path that will head north, and at the end of that path will be the village. It won’t take you long to get there and this way you can avoid entering that valley below us.” 

Lana looks out to the valley and hears the faint cries of dying men and the smell of burning wood, “Thank you, Scout Harding,” mumbles Lana eventually. “You’ve been really helpful.”

“You’re welcome,” remarks Harding as she offers a sincere, respectful bow. “I’m going to head back to camp. We already have a tent ready and waiting for you and your party as well as a warm meal by the fire. It’s one of my mother’s actually - the recipe - you’ll love it I’m sure.” and turns to leave, disappearing into the trees behind them. 

Varric and Solas notice Lana continue staring out onto the valley below and decide to give her some space, and turn back to unpack. 

As Lana glazes out, she can see small flashes of magic light up the almost dark valley below. If she didn’t know any better, she could have mistaken them for small fireworks being used in some kind of celebration. Perhaps for a wedding or—

“Herald?”

But it wasn’t a wedding or some other abrotary celebration the people commune over here in the South. The undeniable sound of battle and cries of dying men and women are just far too hard to ignore. Templars killing mages and mages killing templars.

_No. Not killing . Murder. It’s simply cold, blooded murder._

“Herald, I believe there was more Scout Harding told you?” 

Cassandra walks up to Lana’s side and notices her distressed and distractive gaze over the horizon, and realises that Lana is in no mind to talk strategies. The true horror and panic in young Lana’s large, lavender eyes is impossible to ignore, and Cassandra finds herself sympathising over the naive, inexperienced elf. 

Cassandra takes in a large breath before exhaling, looks out towards the horizon, and changes the subject to the real matter at hand, “I have found that war usually does not determine who is right - but only who is left,” murmurs Cassandra as she solemnly turns back to regard Lana and pauses. “You haven’t killed anyone before… have you?” 

“Is it that obvious?” murmurs Lana as she finally breaks her gaze and looks down towards her bare feet wrapped in leather. 

“Not unless you have seen that look upon your face many times before,” admits Cassandra with furrowed brows. “I had months of training before I killed someone for the first time. When I was still a Seeker, I saw many of my fellow brothers and sisters go through the same vigorous training as I did. They were always so confident in the confines of our Order’s walls, but when the day came for them to put their training to use, they all had the same look in their eyes that you do now.”

“And... did they do it?” murmurs Lana still looking towards the ground. “When it came down to it?”

“They did. The months of training takes over your need to run in the other direction. You almost feel as if you have no control over your own body anymore, and you are simply doing what you have been trained to do many times before. Strike down your enemy or die trying. It was as simple as that.”

Lana looks up at Cassandra with fearful eyes for only a moment before turning her gaze back down, “I don’t think… I don’t think I can do it... if it comes down to it. I can’t take another person’s life,” and pauses for a significant amount of time before looking fiercely back at Cassandra with her voice trembling. “I won’t. _I won’t do it_.”

Cassandra drops her head as she releases a loud, heavy sigh, “Then you would rather be the one who dies? Instead of the person trying to kill you in return?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“I understand that life as a Dalish has provided you some kind shelter, and I can see that your Keeper took great care in ensuring your clans safely, but you are no longer within the confines of your clan, Herald. Those mages or templars will not hesitate to kill anyone they deem a threat.”

“I know. It’s just…they’re people. Their lives matter. And I don’t want to be the one responsible for taking their life,” Lana turns to meet Cassandra’s subtly surprised expression, “Oh I know, because I’m Dalish and an elf I’m supposed to think we are above everyone else in Thedas, right? Well, I wasn’t raised to think like that. The Keeper always taught me to respect all living creatures in this world. From the worms in the earth to the birds in the sky. You humans or dwarves may not believe in my gods, and yes we have a messy history, but that doesn’t mean you don’t matter. We _all_ matter.”

Cassandra drops her head and sighs, “While I appreciate the sentiment, Herald,” and points her finger to the valley down below. “But that won’t stop them from trying to kill _you_. Not everyone can afford the luxury of sticking to their morals in times of war.”

The two women break eye contact and gaze back out towards the horizon once again. The sun is almost completely set and the stars are beginning to shine peacefully above, completely undisturbed by the chaos down below. 

With the posture of an experienced soldier, but with a heavy heart, Cassandra turns back to regard Lana carefully, “You are the Herald of Andraste, and only _you_ can seal the rifts. You simply cannot die. You are far too valuable to allow yourself to be killed over your morals - however virtuous they may be,” and before walking away completely, she turns back around to meet Lana’s gaze and sternly murmurs. “If you will not kill another to save your own life, then do it to save the thousands of innocent people across Thedas who rely on you. Do it for them.” 

As Lana watches Cassandra disappear into the night, she turns back around towards the horizon and notices how quiet it has suddenly fallen. There are no more flashes of magic or cries of dying templars or apostates. Just deafening silence. 

Which could only mean one thing - everyone who was fighting is either dead or dying from their wounds in the cold, winter night. Praying to whomever they believe in to offer them a peaceful passage to a better afterlife, and swearing curses on those responsible for their demise.

The dying people haunt Lana’s mind as she imagines them now lying alone, choking on their own blood without a single loved one by their side. Their final resting place being a battlefield that is littered with who knows how many grotesquely cut down or burnt corpses. 

_Did they have a lover? Children? Parents? Surely not all of them are vicious monsters everyone claims them to be?_

Lana takes a deep breath and decides to head back to camp before it gets too dark. The sound of Harding’s mother’s meal is exactly what she needs right now, and could use some conversation over a warm fire to distract her mind over tomorrow. 

As Lana reaches camp, she notices the number of soldiers and scouts helping the Inquisition, and if it came to it, would perhaps even sacrifice their lives for it. They have all chosen to help close the Breach and restore order by leaving their loved ones behind. Everyone in this camp is willing to sacrifice themselves to ensure the safety of Thedas. How could Lana not do the same? 

They do not have a mark on their hand to close rifts, and yet here they are. They aren’t called the Herald of Andraste, and yet here they are. For all she knows, Lana also might not be the only one here who hasn’t killed before, and yet... here they are.

Realising the extent of choices and sacrifices made by the very people surrounding her, she begins to feel less remorse over the deaths of the people down in the valley who are only spreading more chaos. Suddenly, her empathy towards their deaths begins to fade ever so slowly as she imagines the destruction they have left in their paths.

_Are these not the same people who burnt down and slaughtered innocents in pursuit of their cause to seek justice? Are these not the same people who attacked innocent farmers, merchants and children who did absolutely nothing to justify the defilement of their land and home? And are these not the same people who left hundreds of others destitute and turned into refugees?_

Lana’s heart and stomach begin to turn over the conflicting nature of war - who is right and who is wrong? And that is when Cassandra’s wise, and truthful words return to Lana’s mind:

_War does not determine who is right - only who is left._

  
  



	2. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change. Growth. Hard truths. As the Inquisition’s Lady Herald, El'lana must step-up and help establish the orders’ influence. Many lessons are learnt and life-altering decisions are made.

“You ready to go kid?” asks Varric as he pops his head into Lana’s tent with Bianca rightly strapped across his back, and his chest chair exposed for all the world to see. Despite the fact that it is almost below freezing outside.

Lana offers a slight, polite nod instead of the truth. The truth being that her heart is pounding faster at every passing moment with the possibility of running into a real life-and-death situation today.

As Lana leaves her tent, she looks down at the ring that Tamara gave her almost two months ago and tries to steel her heart and mind. If she dies, then she will never see her family again. If someone gives her no choice, she will have to do what is necessary. At least, she hopes she can. 

Lana walks towards her companions at the edge of the camp and sees Scout Harding discussing the day's route, “As I said to the Herald last night, follow this small path east, pass Calenhad’s Foothold, and you’ll see the path wind down north. The village will be at the end of that path.”

“Thank you,” responds Cassandra sternly. “We should be back before nightfall.”

Following Cassandra’s lead, Lana, Solas and Varric begin their small trek to the Crossroads Village. The day, albeit cold, appears to be a good one as the sky is clear with only a few scattered clouds and no icy breeze whipping through the trees. 

Although the rest of her party has their weapons sheathed, Lana decides to keep her staff out just in case while simultaneously using it as a convenient walking stick. Every step she takes, every bend around a large boulder, she clutches tighter onto her staff’s handle. Her knuckles slowly turn white, and her jaw clenches down harder as her eyes continuously dart back and forth, fixating on every single rustle in the bushes or birds fluttering in the trees. 

Suddenly, a hand is placed on her shoulder and she lashes out with her staff at the unfortunate soul behind her. Luckily, Solas is quicker to react and manages to grab her staff before it connects with his face, “Careful now, da’len.” 

“Creators Solas, you scared the shit out of me!” 

“My apologies. I simply thought you might want this,” Solas releases his grip on her staff and extends out his other hand, wherein Solas reveals a single branch of elfroot with it’s long stem branching off into larger, single leaves. “To help with the nerves.”

Bewildered, Lana takes the unseemly plant known for its numerous healing properties from Solas and murmurs with a sincere smile, “Ma serannas,” and continues walking alongside him. “Where did you find some?”

“I went foraging this morning at first light. It’s good to be—”

“Quiet!” whispers Cassandra as she kneels close to the ground, hiding behind a boulder. “There’s a group of mages up ahead. Be prepared.” and slowly draws out her sword.

Solas, Varric and Lana quickly huddle together low to the ground and hide behind Cassandra’s flank, shielded by the large boulder and some tall, thick bushes. With the elfroot still in Lana’s hand, she quickly plucks a single leaf off the plant's stem, and begins to chew frantically. The rest is then quickly put in a pouch attached to her belt for later.

With everybody’s weapons now drawn, and ready to defend themselves if need be, Lana’s heart begins to thrash inside her chest. With Cassandra being a Seeker, Lana begins to worry that Cassandra might find any excuse to hunt down apostates - just like the templars. But hopefully, based on Cassandra’s behaviour so far, Lana doesn’t believe Cassandra would seek _or_ enjoy killing others unnecessarily. Even if they are apostates.

With each passing moment however, Lana’s heart luckily begins to slow and her nerves settle. With her mind beginning to clear, she can focus on her breathing and ability to open herself up to the Fade. Her sense of control slowly creeps up in the back of mind. All thanks to the wonders of the humble elfroot plant. 

“They’re gone,” declares Cassandra eventually as she sheathes her sword. “They’ve gone west and luckily we’re headed north.” and with the imminent danger now gone, the group begins to relax and continue their way through the Hinterlands. 

With the elfroot effectively calming her nerves, Lana's mind begins to drift from her anxiety to appreciating being amongst nature once again instead. Where the dirt is rightly nestled underneath her feet, the grass tickling her toes, and the trees being only a few arm-lengths away from her touch. The Hinterlands may not come close to what she had in the Free Marches, but it is a damn sight better than being cooped up by the cold, lifeless stone walls of Haven. 

Lana quietly chuckles amongst herself as she knows Lhoris would hate this place. The amount of impossibly steep hills to trek on a daily basis, and where the trees are too thin and dense to climb quickly enough, and the rivers too shallow to catch a decent sized fish. Nevertheless, to just see her family again would bring Lana no greater joy in the world. Even if it was just to hear Lhoris complain, or Tamara fret over something trivial, or to listen to one of the Keeper’s timeless life lessons that Lana has already heard for the hundredth time. 

Now having passed the rubble castle that once displayed the great and mighty Calenhad Foothold, Varric soon spots a sign - _Crossroads Village_ \- lying broken and scorched on the ground at the bottom of the hill. 

“Something’s up,” remarks Varric cautiously. “Signs don’t fall down on their own. Or catch alight.”

“Agreed,” adds Cassandra, drawing her sword and furrowing her brows. “Stay alert.”

The party readies their weapons once again and slows down their pace as they turn in half circles so that they can catch anything out of place. Still following the path north, the group carefully wind their way through a tall, narrow stone passage and after a long, tortuous time of staying alert, Lana suddenly hears small muffled cries in the nearby distance, “Wait. Do you guys hear that?”

“I do,” answers Cassandra with concern. “There’s fighting up ahead in the village. Come on!” and then jolts into a run, causing the rest of the party to follow suit. 

With their sudden and hastened departure _towards_ the fighting, a surge of adrenaline courses through Lana’s body. With the shouting growing closer and louder, Lana tries to take several deep breaths to calm her nerves as she opens herself up to the Fade.

With the burning desire and full intent of seeing her family again, she tries to harden her heart and mind for her first battle against real, living people. If this was a battle against demons, she would have no problem, or hesitation, of ridding the world of them. She knows how to defend herself against demons and has done it her whole life. She knows how they think and how they behave. They’re simple, mindless and crude creatures. 

But to kill another person? That is something else entirely. People are complex. They have friends, family and contain both good and evil within. However, for the sake of her family and the fact that only _she_ can close the rifts, she cannot allow herself to die on moral principles. There is just far too much at stake and her mark is just too valuable. 

As Lana draws from the Fade her staff’s head glows with a white-blue light. She then lunges her staff in the air and the magic expels out and over her companions, coating them in protective spirit magic. Solas notices Lana doing this and turns with an impressive, unexpected smile. 

That is when their path suddenly opens up to the entrance of the little Crossroads Village and they can see three mages and two templars fighting to the death. From only a quick glance, Lana notices several dead bodies already littering the humble village. Blood and dirt intermixed and covering almost the entire village’s centre. 

From what Lana can also quickly discern in a matter of seconds, is that most of the bodies appear to be that of mages and templars, but to Lana’s horror she then notices a few villages amongst the dead, too. 

Now feeling angry and truly disgusted by the mindless slaughter of these innocent villagers, Lana decides to not heed the Keeper’s words this time and decides to use her fury to anchor her. For these mages and templars may not be demons, but they certainly act like them. Mindlessly slaughtering whomever is in their wake to justify their end goal.

With the enemies in sight, Cassandra runs ahead of the party and straight towards the heat of the battle while Varric takes a sharp turn left around a large boulder. Lana decides to run ahead with Cassandra to cover her flank with her shield magic, but Solas grabs her by the arm and yanks her to the right instead, “This way!” and leads Lana to a boulder with a better view over the village and battlefield. 

As they reach the edge, Lana watches Cassandra take down two mages in almost one swoop of her blade. With the skill of an experienced warrior, Cassandra lunges her blade through one of the mage’s necks, and then immediately follows with bashing the second one down to the ground with her shield before running her sword through their chest. As she removes her sword, the last mage screams in a high pitched, grueling cry over their slaughtered companions and pulls out a knife. 

“Blood magic!” warns Lana from above towards Cassandra.

But without a moment's hesitation, and his gaze already locked onto the blood mage, Solas quickly intervenes. Raising his arms up and then immediately lunging them back down, Lana witnesses a surge of white-blue magic fall down hard on the blood mage, immediately rendering them incapable of standing upright no matter how hard they try to defy the weight of the magic pushing down on them. Taking the opportunity, Cassandra lunges forward with a wide arch of her sword and slices the mage’s head clean off. 

Having just witnessed such grotesque violence for the first time, Lana’s stomach begins to turn in knots and she needs to be sick. But with no bush or shrub nearby, Lana spins on her heel, falls to her knees, and lunges herself over the edge of the boulder as she relieves herself of the morning’s oatmeal. 

Meanwhile, Varric has managed to take out one of the two templars, and just as Cassandra turns around from the beheaded mage, the remaining templar bashes Cassandra’s face in with his shield, knocking her off her feet. 

“Halt!” cries Cassandra as she flails her sword hand in the air in an attempt to de-escalate the situation. “We are not apostates!” 

“I do not think they care, Seeker!” shouts Solas from the boulder’s edge, and then turns to Lana. “Come, we need to get down there.” 

Ignoring Cassandra’s plea, the templar brings his sword down regardless but she manages to block his attack with her shield just in time. With the templar’s back turned to Varric however, he quickly fires three perfectly aimed arrows straight through the templar with the arrow heads sprouting out on the other side. The templar drops his sword and shield as he falls to his knees and lands face first in the dirt. 

Solas and Lana come around the bend to catch up with Cassandra and Varric in the middle of the little village, “Is that all of them?” askes Lana nervously. “Please tell me—”

Suddenly, as Lana turns her head she sees five more templars running down a path from the west and two more mages from behind a burning house in the east, leaving Lana and her companions completely surrounded and caught in the middle. 

Without hesitation, Lana refreshes her protective barrier over her party while Solas simultaneously slams his staff onto the ground causing an explosive force of spirit magic to shoot up and out towards the oncoming templars, knocking the closest three completely off their feet and hurling them several paces back in the air. Their weapons rip out their hands and their helmets shoot off their heads as they land violently back on the ground, rendering them unconcious. 

Varric then aims Bianca up towards the sky and fires five consecutive arrows into the air. With the wind’s direction taken into consideration, the arrows then curve perfectly back down towards the unconscious templars and pierces them through their armour, effectively pinning them to the ground. 

Meanwhile, Lana takes a brief moment to look at Solas from behind in awe over such impressive, powerful magic. She also manages to take a quick mental note over the spell itself and the stance Solas used when performing it. With both of them pulling from the Fade simultaneously, Lana is able to feel the arcane energy surrounding Solas, and can tap into understanding how he did what he did. Being able to understand the magic used by another mage is like an unspoken language, and is impossible to describe to anyone who isn’t a mage. 

Suddenly, a ball of fire flies past Lana, and hits one of the two remaining templars instead. The templar drops her weapon and begins screaming murderous cries of pain as she violently burns to death right before Lana’s very eyes. The smell of a burning flesh quickly hits Lana’s nose and she feels the need to be sick once again. 

But with so much going on however, she manages to swallow her bile and takes a quick deep breath as spins on her heel to expel a wall of ice tall and wide enough to cover her and her parties eastern side. The same mage releases another ball of fire towards Lana’s ice wall but luckily Lana’s connection to the Fade is strong, and her ice wall absorbs the fire with ease. 

“We are not templars!” shouts Solas from behind Lana and towards the mages as he carefully peers over the ice wall. “We mean you no harm!”

“I don’t think they’re listening, chuckles.” remarks Varric as he peers around the edges of the ice wall to shoot several arrows in the fire mages chest. 

Cassandra then runs around the ice wall and straight towards the last remaining mage, deflecting their magical attacks with her shield. Unfortunately for the mage, Cassandra is just too quick before another spell is ready to be cast, and she runs her sword all the way through the mage’s chest, lifting them off their feet before kicking them off her sword with her boot. The mage clearly dead before they even hit the ground.

While Lana stands in shock and denial over the continued horror before her eyes, Solas slams his staff back down onto the ground and a focused bolt of lightning shoots out from the staff’s head, shocking a templar to their knees. Sprinting past the party and towards the templar, Cassandra swiftly kicks them onto their back and lunges her sword through their throat, piercing all the way through and into the ground.

With no more obvious threats around to look out for, Lana numbly watches Cassandra remove her sword from the dead templar’s throat and witnesses a seemingly endless flow of blood spew and gush out from the fatal wound. 

After a while of waiting for more mages or templars to appear, the group eventually relaxes as they realise that the fighting is finally over and even if there are any left, they have most likely scattered deep into the forest by now. 

“Is everyone alright?” asks Cassandra as she rests her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. “Herald? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine,” answers Lana with relief. “You’ve got a nasty cut on your forehead though. Here, let me heal you.” 

“No that won’t be necessary,” refuses Cassandra with a brief wave of her hand as she stands up straight. “We can attend to our wounds _after_ we’ve found the villagers.” 

“Agreed,” adds Solas with concern. “Let us search for them, together.”

“Very well,” remarks Cassandra with a subtle nod before turning to Varric. “Stay here with the Herald. We’re going to look around.” 

“You got it,” concurs Varric with a nod as Cassandra runs east and Solas west, and then turns back around to regard Lana with a gentle smile as he folds his arms across his chest. “You did good, kid.”

“Thanks,” murmurs Lana sheepishly, but then turns around sorrowfully as she sees the bloodied village with all the corpses surrounding her and Varric. “It’s uh... it’s just a lot to take in right now. There’s so much—”

Then suddenly and unexpectedly, at the corner of Lana’s eye, she catches a glimpse of a templar viciously leap off a boulder's edge just behind Varric. With his helmet removed and an arrow sprouting from his shoulder, she sees the murderous, vengeful and monstrous intent in his eyes. His mouth stretched out wide as he roars out a loud, intimidating cry.

And as if in slow motion and in a blink of an eye, Lana instinctively pushes Varric aside with her left arm while simultaneously slamming her staff onto the ground, just as Solas did moments before, with her right. With her connection to the Fade still strong she expels an explosive direct force that sends the, still mid-air templar, flying several paces back and across the village. The templar violently crashes into a fallen tree at an alarming force, and once the dust surrounding the templar settles, her heart immediately drops to her stomach as she notices a razor sharp, broken branch the size of a man’s arm sprouting through the left side of the templar’s chest, just above his breastplate. Panicked over what she has just done, Lana gasps for air as she sprints towards the impaled templar. 

Flailing her staff to the side, she crashes to her knees and tries to assess the damage she has just done, “No! No! _No!_ Creators, _no!_ ” her hands begin shaking uncontrollably as she hovers over the templar’s impaled body, unsure of what to do next. “You’re… you’re going to be okay! I’ll… I’ll heal you! We just got to get this out!”

“ _Lana!_ ” shouts Varric from behind as he starts running towards her.

Still on her knees and her eyes filled with frightful tears, she turns to Varric still running towards her, “No, please! Help me! We need to help him!” and turns back around to regard the unconscious templar. 

Having finally reached her side, Varric cries out sympathetically, “Listen, even if we got it out—”

The templar eventually gains some sense back and quickly notices Lana assessing his fatal wound. With vengeance firing in his eyes, he swings his right arm up to tightly grab Lana by the throat as he shouts. “Don’t you fucking touch me… you _demon!_ ” and spits into Lana’s face. But with so much blood loss, the templar quickly loses his remaining strength and releases his grip around her neck. 

With his blood starting to slowly choke him from within, the templar begins coughing violently as blood spills out his mouth and down his armour in disturbing volume.

Ignoring the warm blood and saliva on her face, Lana presses her hands lightly around the base of the branch sprouting from the templar’s chest and then releases a white-blue pulsing energy as she desperately, and illogically, attempts to heal him, “I’m sorry…” cries Lana hysterically gasping for breath. “ _I'm so, so sorry!_ I didn’t mean to do it… I didn’t want to hurt you… I only wanted… I only wanted you to get away...” 

“Herald!” cries Cassandra from afar as she runs towards them. “Step away!”

Solas also makes his way back, and once hearing his arrival, Lana looks up from the templar and cries, “Solas, please help me! There must be something you can do! We have to try! _Please!_ ” 

Cassandra and Varric look at Solas with concern as he drops his head and sighs, “Ir abelas, lethallan,” and slowly kneels down next to Lana sympathetically. “He’s already dead.”

Unable to comprehend what she is hearing, Lana fixates her distressed lavender eyes onto Solas as tears still fall down her flushed cheeks. Eventually and ever so slowly, Lana reluctantly turns back towards the templar and confronts his lifeless body lying pinned to the fallen tree with his eyes glazed over, staring into nothing.

With Lana still using her healing magic on the dead templar, Solas subtly lays a hand upon Lana’s and gently guides them away. Once releasing his touch, Lana slowly brings her hands to her lap while still focusing on the templar before her. The templar’s warm blood now dripping from her hands and onto her specially made Dalish robe, permanently staining the fabric and intricately woven details. 

Realizing it is truly over and there is nothing more she can do, the reality hits her like a ton of bricks falling on her chest. Exhausted from her hysterical crying, her breathing eventually slows as Lana becomes despondent while she continuously stares at the lifeless eyes of the templar before her. The man - the stranger - _she_ killed. 

After a moment of deafening silence, Cassandra eventually murmurs sternly, “This man meant you harm, Herald, and if he had succeeded the world would be in grave peril without you and your mark. You did what you had to do. Better it be him, than you,” but without so much as a response or inkling of acknowledgement from Lana, Cassandra sighs and decides its best to move on. “Varric, I need you to come with me. We must make our way back to camp as we need more men to secure the area and restore the village.” 

“Of course,” murmurs Varric, locking his concerned gaze on Lana still lying on the ground.

“Solas,” utters Cassandra as she turns to regard the mage. “I trust you will look out for our Herald in the meanwhile?”

Solas looks up towards Cassandra and offers a subtle nod of agreement. With nothing more to say, Cassandra turns to leave the village. But before departing however, Varric moves in closer to place his hand on Lana’s shoulder and murmurs. “You… you just saved my life, kid. Thank you.” and quietly steps away to catch up with Cassandra. 

With Cassandra and Varric now gone behind the rocky valley, Solas stands up and extends a hand to Lana, “Come.” 

Lana slowly turns her head up to meet Solas’s soft and concerned gaze and eventually takes his hand. Once to her feet, Solas picks up her staff off the ground and hands it back to her. Lana takes it and slowly glides it into its holder across her back. 

After creating some considerable distance between herself and the templar, Lana eventually turns around for one last gaze at the person she just murdered with her own hands, and then turns back around to catch up with Solas. 

Solas guides Lana across a boarded path by the tiny pond in the centre of the village, followed by walking underneath a rickety bridge between two small buttes of earth. And then eventually walking to the top of a flight of steps next to a large, cascading waterfall. 

After helping Lana sit down on the top step, Solas quickly finds an empty bucket lying around, places it between them, and then promptly sits on the other side. With a simple hand gesture, Solas fills the empty bucket with water as Lana stares blankly into the distance. Then, from the corner of her eye, Lana notices Solas swings his backpack around towards his chest and take out a piece of white cotton cloth. 

Solas dips the cloth into the water and swirls it around for a while. He then pulls it out, wrings it of excess water, and stretches out his hand towards Lana, “Here.” 

Lana looks at Solas despondently, takes the cloth, and slowly wipes her hands clean of the now dried up blood lodged between her knuckles and fingernails. Blood has even soaked between the crevices of the ring Tamara gave her, with the underneath planes of the stones no longer reflecting their true, clean colours. The purple amethyst now a dismal brown, and the white diamonds lying dark and pale.

With the cloth covered with as much dirt and blood as it could possibly absorb, Lana dips the fabric back into the water and tries to clean it. Once submerged however, the water quickly turns into a murky brown and the cloth, when pulled back out, is no longer white but stained and patchy. The blood has already set deep within the fibres of this once pure, white fabric and will no longer be the same again. Lana begins to imagine she is looking at her own heart, which was once white and pure, but is now permanently stained with the blood of that templar.

Lana rests the cloth on the edge of the bucket and looks up at Solas who, in between turning his head to look out for more trouble, hasn’t removed his gaze from her the entire time. Perhaps out of concern or maybe he is worried that she might do something reckless? Either way, Lana can feel his eyes on her and she eventually looks up in return, “Ma serannas.” and turns to look at the swaying bridge in the distance. 

Solas then takes the blood stained cloth and dips it back into the bucket. Once again, he swirls it around for a bit, wrings out the dirty excess water, and passes it back to Lana, “Your face, too.” 

Lana turns to Solas feeling slightly embarrassed by the fact that she completely forgot about the templar spitting in her face only moments ago, and takes the cloth back. As Lana slowly and gently wipes away at the dried blood on her young, tanned and taut skin, Solas watches her violet vallaslin, curved elegantly around her cheekbones and up towards her temple, reappear. Her eyelashes still wet from her tears, and her cheeks and nose flushed with a pink hue. 

“It will get better,” murmurs Solas knowing there isn’t much he can say to ease her internal struggles. “With time.” 

Lana just closes her eyes in frustration and release a loud sigh, “I just murdered—”

“But he was going to—”

“I don’t _care_ what he was trying to do, Solas,” snaps Lana with furrowed brows. “At the end of the day, _I_ had to kill a man to protect a friend,” and pauses with her gaze filled with anger and unrelenting guilt until she eventually murmurs. “Tell me I’m wrong?”

Solas keeps his gaze firm, but his response quiet, “You are not.” 

Lana drops her head, turning away from Solas and shuts her eyes, “I’d like to be alone… please.” 

“Of course.” murmurs Solas as he looks to Lana one last time before swinging his backpack back across his shoulder and slowly stands to leave.

As Solas reaches around the bend of a house behind her however, he suddenly hears Lana quietly singing to herself, which is almost completely muffled by the sound of the waterfall nearby. 

Confused as to why she would be singing at a time like this, Solas turns back and carefully peers around the corner to observe, and that is when he not only hears but understands the lyrics of her tune. As only someone familiar with the elvhen language would be. 

But only a Dalish elf would know the song's true meaning. A song Lana’s people would sing only when one is struggling with deep, personal sorrow. A song only sung when one is strife with pain and suffering. A song Lana’s people sang when they had to leave Halamshiral. 

_“Melava inan enansal_

_Ir su aravel tu elvaral_

_u na emma abelas_

_In elgar sa vir mana_

_in tu setheneran din emma na_

_Lath sulevin_

_lath araval ena_

_arla ven tu vir mahvir_

_melana ‘nehn_

_enasal ir sa lethallin.”_

_**Elvish to English Translation:** _

“Melava inan enansal

Ir su aravel tu elvaral

u na emma abelas

In elgar sa vir mana

in tu setheneran din emma na

Lath sulevin

lath araval ena

arla ven tu vir mahvir

melana ‘nehn

enasal ir sa lethallin.” 

=

Time was once a blessing 

but long journeys are made longer

when alone within.

Take spirit from the long ago

but do not dwell in the lands no longer yours.

Be certain in need, 

and the path will emerge

to a home tomorrow

and time will again

be the joy it once was


	3. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change. Growth. Hard truths. As the Inquisition’s Lady Herald, El'lana must step-up and help establish the orders’ influence. Many lessons are learnt and life-altering decisions are made.

“Andaran athis’an,” murmurs Knowledge as it slowly approaches. “Mir falon.”

“Mirthadra Ghil-Dirthalen,” answers Solas in return. “I am glad to have found you.”

The Spirit stops their approach and offers a respectful nod to a familiar friend. With only a green, luminous, and opaque form of a body with no legs to speak of, the Spirit naturally hovers above the ground in a steady vacillating motion, “What may I share with you? What is it that you seek to know?”

Solas places both hands behind his back, a stance he usually takes when he feels calm and safe, and begins a slow stride next to a steady flowing stream beside large blossoming trees. As Solas steps lightly and purposefully, he enjoys how soft the green grass is underneath his bare feet and notices the soft pink fallen flowers that litter the ground around him. Knowledge promptly follows Solas and hovers beside him.

“I am seeking artefacts that measure the strength of the veil,” begins Solas looking down at the ground. “However, I know not where to find them since Arlathan.”

“Ah yes,” murmurs Knowledge looking out ahead. “I know of what you speak.”

“Do you know where I can find them?” inquires Solas as he lifts his head up to regard the faceless Spirit. 

“I do not,” answers Knowledge as it politely turns its head to regard Solas’s gaze. “Although, might I suggest that you speak with Curiosity? I believe they might know where you may find these artefacts.” 

Solas stops his slow stroll, so too does Knowledge, and offers the Spirit a gentle smile of gratitude, “Ma serannas. You have been most helpful.”

“You are always welcome, lethallin.”

“How have things been for you here?” wonders Solas as he suddenly removes his gaze with guilt tugging onto his heart. “Since the Breach?”

“I can sense where the veil is thin,” admits Knowledge. “It calls to me. I want to know more about the rifts. I _must_ know more. However, Wisdom has convinced me to seek my knowledge elsewhere. So, I have been learning about the tears another way.”

Solas closes his eyes with regret, “Ir abelas,” and opens them to regard Knowledge with a promise. “It will not always be like this.”

Knowledge remains naturally nonchalant towards Solas’s declaration of better days to come and moves the conversation onward, “Would you like me to find Curiosity for you?”

“Please,” murmurs Solas as he smiles softly, laughing under his breath towards Knowledge’s expected single-purposeness. “I would appreciate it.”

“Ma nuvenin,” acknowledges the Spirit as it offers Solas a polite nod. “I will let Curiosity know where to find you. Dareth shiral.”

“Dareth shiral, Ghil-Dirthalen. Ma serannas.”

And with a blink of an eye, Knowledge apparates before Solas and is no longer around to be seen. Unsure of how long Knowledge will take to find Curiosity, Solas decides to sit down on the ground underneath a tree besides the stream. He leads back against the tree and looks up towards the sky through the forest’s canopy and soaks in the sunlight. 

Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he notices something shift between the trees on the other side of the stream. Solas perks up startled and tries to catch a glimpse of whatever is creeping around in his forest. After a moment of silence however, nothing seems to be out of place and Solas shakes his head in disbelief over something being there, and rests back against the tree. 

That is when, to Solas’s astonishment and bewilderment, a pure white halla steps slowly out from behind a tree, casually grazing on the lush green grass of the forest. Baffled and curious by the halla’s apparation, Solas slowly leans forward and carefully stands as to not startle the beautiful creature. 

Once standing on both feet, Solas attempts to steadily wade through the stream to get to the otherside. Meanwhile, the undisturbed halla has only continued to lazily graze on the forest floor as it steps a few feet closer towards the open. 

Solas eventually reaches the other side of the stream and admires the halla peacefully enjoying his forest. The graceful creature’s white coat is glistening in the sunlight and its elegantly curved antlers are adorned perfectly upon its head. 

Eventually the halla notices Solas’s advance and lifts its head in alarm with its ears perking back, indicating that it is unsure of his intentions. Solas stops moving and then slowly extends a hand out to show that he means it no harm. After a long moment of neither one of them backing down, the halla eventually and reluctantly, decides to approach Solas’s hand. 

The halla takes a few elegant steps forward before stopping only a breath away from Solas. The creature then proceeds to cautiously extend its neck out, almost touching Solas’s finger tips. Which is when Solas leans in closer to gracefully glide his hand from the halla’s nose all along to the side of its face. Solas and the halla gaze into each other's eyes and that's when he suddenly notices the colour... 

_Lavender_. 

Solas furrows his brows in confusion as he continuously stares into the halla’s eyes with bewilderment over its surprising apparation. Feelings of warmth and elation begin to consume his heart. The halla even brings itself closer, gently nudging against Solas’s chest with its nose. As if they are already somehow familiar with each other. 

Then suddenly a bright blue light appears and the halla immediately jumps away startled, quickly disappearing into the forest. Solas turns around and notices that Curiosity has managed to successfully find him. 

“Andaran athis’an,” announces Solas as he regards Curiosity with a nod, but then quickly turns his gaze back towards the forest as he watches the halla elegantly prance further and further away. And that is when the halla also stops to turn around and regard Solas one last time before disappearing completely. 

Still astonished after the strange, unexpected encounter, Solas turns back around to regard Curiosity with a smile, “Thank you for coming.”

Unlike Knowledge, Curiosity has a small, white-blue, opaque and faceless body and temperament of a young, ten year old boy. 

In an elated tone, Curiosity approaches Solas respectfully and with excitement, “It seems you seek lost elvhen artefacts. I know where to find one. I’ve seen it.”

“That is excellent news,” says Solas with a soft smile as he kneels down to the Spirit’s level. “Where?”

“Not too far from you. There is an old, abandoned ruin in the east. Behind some fallen rocks. Or pillar? You’ll find it there. That’s where you’ll find it. I’ve seen it.”

“Ma serannas,” murmurs Solas as he stands to his feet. “You have been most helpful.”

The Spirit looks at Solas longingly as it anxiously shuffles its hands, “Do you need me to find anything else? Can I look for more? What I can find for you? Where do you want me to go?”

Solas smiles to himself over the Spirit’s chosen temperament, “Yes, actually. If you could search for as many of these artefacts as possible, I would be most grateful.” 

“Oh, yes!” gasps Curiosity as it jumps excitedly. “Right away! Yes! I can do that!”

But before Curiosity disappears, Solas places a gentle hand on its shoulder and sternly warns the Spirit, “Please be careful my friend. As you know, the Fade is no longer safe. Well… _safer_. Just focus on the task of finding these artefacts for me.”

“Ma nuvenin,” concurs the Spirit and promptly apparates.

“Dareth shiral.” murmurs Solas alone in his dream and turns his gaze back towards the empty forest. 

_I suppose it is time to wake up._

_**Elvish to English:** _

“Andaran athis’an” = Enter this place in peace (formal greeting)

“Mir falon” = my friend

“Mir Mirthadra Ghil-Dirthalen” = My honoured one who guides seekers of knowledge true

“Dareth shiral” = Safe journey/ farewell

“Ma nuvenin” = As you say

“Ma serannas.” = Thank you

  
  



	4. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change. Growth. Hard truths. As the Inquisition’s Lady Herald, El'lana must step-up and help establish the orders’ influence. Many lessons are learnt and life-altering decisions are made.

_Adaran athis’an Keeper,_

_I am writing this letter to you in the earliest hours of the morning under candlelight in my tent. The sun is yet to rise and for the birds to sing their songs in the trees. I am in a place called the Hinterlands, and Ferelden truly does have the coldest nights and days I have ever experienced._

_The magic instilled in my hand still aches daily, but I am used to having the constant pain without almost a moment's rest. At least it is good for something._

_I have been hesitant to write this next letter to you because of what I have done. What I had to do. And what you will think of me once I tell you._

_Seeker Cassandra, Varric Tethras, Solas and I were heading to a village to find a Chantry woman who said she may have valuable information. However, when we got to the village there were mages and templars killing each other in the middle of the tiny village. I even saw some villagers amongst the dead, too. It was a truly, truly horrible sight to behold, Keeper. I am still having restless nights about it._

_Once the fighting was over, Seeker Cassandra and Solas went to look for the villagers while I stayed with Varric Tethras. Then, out of nowhere, a templar leapt off a boulder aiming his sword directly at Varric from behind with the intent to kill._

_I… I pushed the templar away with great magical force and he got impaled from a fallen tree. And he… he died. I killed him. And I couldn’t save him._

_I have barely slept since and I’ve been chewing on elfroot and bark for days now. They have helped, but the memories… nothing can take that away._

_The others seem to understand, but I believe it has been so long that they probably don’t even remember who they killed for the first time. They all try to console me, in their own way, but I wish you were here with me to offer your wisdom and guidance. I am truly lost without you. It has been extremely difficult these past few months without hearing your voice and your endless stories. I hate how long we have been apart. I miss my home and our clan, dearly._

_However, I have taken a liking to the company I’m keeping here in Ferelden. As I have mentioned in my previous letters, the humans have been very kind to me. Perhaps it is because of my title, but either way the hospitality has been very generous._

_Seeker Cassandra is a mighty human and experienced warrior, and I have never seen anyone fight or behave like her before. I really admire her uncomplicated courage to do what is right, not what is easy. Cassandra’s determination since the Breach… I’m just in awe over her ability to see a problem and deal with it headon. No room for lengthy discussions or frilly politics. Just blatant, real action._

_However, underneath all of that rough and rigid exterior, I sense a true softness within. A real kindness and a good heart. She may not say things softly, but she says things truthfully. And as you know: honesty, above all things, is what I hold most dear._

_Varric Tethras is a dwarven man with quite a character, Keeper. Lhoris and Varric would get along quite well, I’d imagine. He has the most fascinating bow that would make Lhoris green with envy - he even has a name for it, “Bianca”. He also has this ability to bring light humour to any tough situation, and has made me laugh the most since the Breach. Varric is also a wondrous story teller and he even sells his stories with great success I believe._

_He is both equally charming as he is sarcastic, however he has taken on the roll of always ensuring I am taken care of - reminding me of Tamara, now that I think about it. A bit of ‘mother hen’ and he even calls me “El”. But I know that behind his quips and easy-going mannerism, he is a man who cares deeply for this country and its people. He would do anything to help keep the people of Thedas safe and I truly admire his bravery._

_And then there is Solas. No family or clan name. I must admit, I am yet to determine if I know him well enough to describe him to you or I am grossly mistaken and I do not know him at all. Firstly, he is one of the People but yet, he is not Dalish or from the city. Even the humans do not know what to make of him. He claims to be a simple wanderer and explorer of the Fade being somniari, yet I cannot help sense he is more than what he appears. There is a story there, but we are not familiar enough for me to pry._

_His behaviour reminds of you actually, Keeper. He holds himself quite similarly and I am truly fascinated by his intelligent, philosophical mind. He’s seen such wondrous things in the Fade, even memories of the Elvhen in the days of Arthalan. He holds so much wisdom, that due to our separation from one another, I find myself drawn to seek his guidance more and more. I enjoy listening to what he has to say and he has so many stories to tell. He is quite simply put: fascinating._

_Aside from his behaviour and intellect, he also has a good heart. He’s been very attentive to the refugees and ensuring the safety of others. And the fact that he is a mage and here helping of his own volition, with all things considered, speaks volumes to his character. I admire his perseverance in helping us seal the Breach, and courage to do what is right._

_It seems I must conclude this letter, Keeper. I am on my last sheet of parchment and I would also like to forage before the day truly starts. We are looking for abandoned supply caches in the forest for the refugees today. I must admit, the comradery in helping those less fortunate is quite fulfilling. It feels good to help._

_I think about you, Lhoris, Tamara and our clan daily and I hope Leliana will find you soon. Know you are all in my heart and I will treasure the day I get to look upon your faces once again._

_Dareth shiral,_

_El’lana Aemma Lavellan_


	5. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change. Growth. Hard truths. As the Inquisition’s Lady Herald, El'lana must step-up and help establish the orders’ influence. Many lessons are learnt and life-altering decisions are made.

Solas slowly opens his eyes and finds himself staring at the inside of his dark tent. The cold Hinterland morning shocking his body awake as it sends shivers down his spine.

_Oh, how I loathe the cold._

Solas slowly sits up, still in his bedroll, and rests his hand on his head as he recaptures his dream in the Fade. He remembers his conversation with Knowledge and his concern over its wellbeing. And then Curiosity telling him where to find one of the elvhen artefacts, and Solas then asking the Spirit to find more. But then, Solas remembers the halla. The unexpected, beautiful creature interrupting _his_ dream. 

Bewildered as to how and _why_ the halla showed up in his dream makes Solas anxious over its meaning. Why did the halla make Solas feel so happy and safe? And why was the omen of a _halla_ in the first place? For such a specific creature, Solas wonders if it was something about Ghilan’nain? Or Andruil? But if that was the case, he wouldn’t have felt so... at peace. What is his mind trying to tell him? Or perhaps... his heart?

_Don’t be ridiculous._

Solas notices a shadow pass his tent and decides to see who is also awake so early in the morning. He grabs his clothes and tries to dress as quickly as possible to cover his bare skin from the icy temperatures of the morning. 

Solas eventually steps out of his tent and looks around and notices two scouts posted on watch duty. On the other side of the camp however, by the pond, Solas notices a figure wondering about curiously focusing on the ground.

With the sun only beginning to rise, and with the figure facing away from camp, Solas walks slowly towards the pond to see who is foraging so early in the morning. As the silhouette stands back up, they hear Solas’s approach and quickly turn around to see who is behind them on the other side of the pond. 

“Morning,” murmurs Lana with a gentle smile as she holds a large cloth with a collection of plucked herbs. “You’re up early.” 

“Yes,” concurs Solas as he places his arms behind his back. “As are you.”

“I couldn’t sleep anymore. And besides, I wanted to forage some herbs before the day starts. And it is nice and quiet this time of the day, too.”

Solas looks out towards the horizon and sees tips of the mountains catching the morning light, “I agree. Although, the cold is something I could do without.”

“You’re telling me,” chuckles Lana. “I nearly woke the entire camp just now when I mis-stepped and my foot fell into the pond. I have never felt such cold before in my life.” 

Solas laughs, “That seems fair. What are you looking for?”

“Elfroot mostly. But I’ve managed to get one embrium flower and some spindleweed already.”

“Why do you need so many healing plants?”

“Well, I’ve noticed that a lot of the refugees may not be physically hurt, but they are ill. With these people being driven out of their homes and out into the cold, they have fallen to winter-sickness. I wanted to help stock some herbs for the healers to use.”

Solas smiles at Lana’s thoughtfulness, “That’s... very kind and considerate of you,” and pauses with a gentle gaze. “Let me help.”

“Oh, no that’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“Please, I insist.” persists Solas as he makes his way towards the edge of the pond.

“Okay,” murmurs Lana with a soft smile as she walks towards her side of the stream. “Thank you.”

As Solas reaches the edge of the pond, Lana decides to help him by pointing out which tiny rocks Solas must use to get across the icy waters safely. By following Lana’s guide, Solas manages to get across with good speed. However, Solas just manages to mis-step on the last rock and Lana reactively drops her collected herbs to grab Solas by the arms to help steady his balance. 

Using Lana as a counter weight, Solas finally reaches the other side and the two elves laugh together with relief over the close call of Solas almost falling completely into the freezing pond. 

Lana retrieves her cloth full of herbs, and the two walk side-by-side in the morning’s light as they forage together.

“I believe Mother Giselle is on her way to Haven.” says Solas as he looks about the ground.

“Yes,” concurs Lana as she focuses on the other side. “She reminded me a little of my Keeper actually. Aside from the large red hat and robes, of course.”

“And the thick Orlesian accent?” quips Solas with a cheeky smile.

“Oh Creators, yes,” chuckles Lana with a wide smile as she turns to regard Solas. “But she was actually very helpful and seemed kind. A good heart with good intentions. She said to go to the Chantry in Val Voyal and try to convince only _some_ of the clerics to support us,” Lana steps away from Solas and finds another elfroot plant tucked away behind a rock, and plucks it from the earth. “We don't need to convince them all apparently. But first, I think it's best if we help settle the people here before we make our way across the country,” and stands to regard Solas with her large, lavender eyes. “Luckily Cassandra seems to agree with me.”

“It is good of you to put so much effort into helping these people,” adds Solas with sincerity as he walks further into the forest, and kneels down to find an embrium flower near the base of a tree. “I can only imagine that if someone else had your power, that they certainly wouldn’t be spending their time foraging for herbs so early in the morning.”

“Do you disapprove?” 

“On the contrary,” Solas stands to hand Lana the embrium flower and she places it with the others. “I wholeheartedly believe that the Inquisition should help those they can.” 

Lana bashfully smiles and gazes up at Solas, “Well, hopefully we can secure some more supplies for the refugees on this side of the Hinterlands before we head west,” and then peers down towards the herbs. “This should be plenty. Shall we head back?”

Solas nods in agreement and the two elves steadily walk side-by-side as they make their way back towards camp. 

“There is actually something I wanted to discuss with you,” begins Solas as he eventually breaks the silence between them. “Especially since we’re headed east today.”

“Yes?”

“In my journeys, I heard of ancient elvhen artefacts that can measure the strength of the veil. However, I did not know where I could find one. So, I approached a Spirit of Knowledge in the Fade as I slept and asked if it knew where any of these artefacts can be found.” 

“And?” wonders Lana as she looks at Solas intrigued. “Did the Spirit know?”

“It did not. Fortunately a Curiosity Spirit knew, and it informed me that there happens to be one nearby us somewhere in an old, abandoned ruin east of here,” and decidedly pauses in anticipation. “I was wondering if the Inquisition would agree... or perhaps see the value, in finding these artefacts?”

“Well,” begins Lana and then falls silent as she thinks about her answer carefully. “I can only speak for myself and say that finding these artefacts sounds really important. You said they can measure the strength of the vail? Does that mean they could somehow tell us where a rift might occur _before_ it even happens?”

“Yes,” answers Solas pleasantly surprised and impressed. “And it can strengthen the veil, too.” 

Lana falls quiet again, but only for a moment, and shakes her head in disbelief, “That is just… it’s just _so_ fascinating. The lives our people must have had back then…” and looks away with a far-off wonderment in her eyes as she tries to picture the days of Arthalan. Luckily, she quickly comes back to reality and looks back up at Solas with a polite smile. “Did the Curiosity Spirit tell you where the others are?”

“No, but I did ask it to search. I will return to the Fade at some point and see what it has found.” 

Suddenly Lana suddenly stops walking, and noticing her absence now beside him, Solas also stops to turn around to see why. Appearing somewhat nervous as she fidgets with her fingernails, Lana looks towards Solas longingly and murmurs, “Solas, would it be possible if I could join you?”

“Join me?” 

“When you speak with the Curiosity Spirit?” explains Lana eagerly with a gentle smile. “Ever since you told me about the type of Spirits you encounter when dreaming, I find myself wanting to meet one more and more. I’ve only ever seen demons and whisps, but never the type of Spirits you meet.”

Solas’s mouth almost falls agape as he cannot believe what Lana is asking. His heart begins to leap inside his chest over just the _idea_ of being able to share his journeys with someone so open to the world of Spirits, a piece of his world. Telling stories is one thing, but to actually bring Lana to the Fade in dream-state and meet one of his friends? To say Lana continuously surpasses his expectations would be an understatement. 

Having been rendered uncharacteristically speechless for a moment, Lana snaps Solas out of his surprised expression, “Solas?”

“I - well, yes,” Solas clears his throat as he composes himself to appear more nonchalant. “If that is what you desire. But I would not let anybody know. They might get the wrong idea.” 

Lana's smile widens from excitement, “I understand. It’ll be our little secret.” 

  
  



	6. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change. Growth. Hard truths. As the Inquisition’s Lady Herald, El'lana must step-up and help establish the orders’ influence. Many lessons are learnt and life-altering decisions are made.

Lana and her companions have set out east to find abandoned supply caches for the refugees of the Crossroads Village. After speaking privately with Cassandra, Lana managed to convince the Seeker that it will be imperative that they also look out for an abandoned ruin that may hopefully contain the ancient elvhen artefact Solas mentioned earlier that morning. 

It has been three days since securing the Crossroads Village and the party has already found themselves to be in more life threatening situations than expected. If it’s not demons falling out of rifts, it's a group of apostates or rogue templars. 

Luckily for Lana’s state of mind, she has managed to acquit herself by using only deflective barrier spells and shield wards against the mages and templars. However, when it comes to fighting demons, Lana does not and will not hold back.

So far, the day has been quite peaceful and easy. With the Inquisition making slow ripples of progress across the Hinterlands, and their reputation only preceding them, the people of the rocky countryside begin to see the strength and determination of the newly formed organisation. 

The Inquisition slowly becoming the people’s rock on which they can rely upon, and Lana being the embodiment of hope in their hearts that Andraste still watches over them at the Maker’s side.

With Varric and Lana just an ear-shot ahead, Cassandra’s skeptical mind begins to wonder about the esoteric mage beside her. His dependability and bravery has been duly noted and appreciated, but she cannot rest her mind on his proclaimed life choices thus far. 

“You are staring, Seeker,” murmurs Solas as he maintains his gaze on the path ahead. “Is there something you wanted?”

Slightly embarrassed and frustrated by her inability to get away with being sly, Cassandra groans softly under her breath, “I apologise, I didn’t mean to stare. I was just wondering Solas, have you always lived alone? Out in the wilderness, as an apostate?”

“For the most part.”

“Would that not be incredibly trying?” 

Solas turns and offers the Seeker a sympathetic smile, “ _ People _ can be trying, mankind most of all.”

“That…” murmurs Cassandra as she pauses, looking away disillusioned. “Is an excellent point.”

“You know what I like about you, chuckles?” adds Varric, turning around to regard Solas with a cheeky smile. “Your boundless optimism.” 

“It’s comforting that whatever qualities I lack,” quips Solas. "You’ll invent for me, Varric.”

Lana then releases an unexpected snort of laughter as she maintains her gaze on the path ahead. Surprised by her outburst, Solas looks towards the giggling Herald ahead of him and releases a subtle smile.

“No, really,” continues Varric with his head still turned towards Solas. “Why else would an elven apostate help crazy chantry folk close a hole in the sky?”

“When you put it like that,” remarks Solas and then pauses meaningfully. “I must concede your point.” 

The group then comes across a bend in the road, and Lana suddenly points towards a small hill and cries out, “Look! That might be supplies.”

“Excellent find, Herald,” remarks Cassandra. “Let us take a closer look.”

Lana and her companions walk towards the hill and once atop, they find poorly hidden boxes and crates filled with flour, wheat, vegetables and some fruit. 

“These supplies must go to the village,” remarks Cassandra. “We need to mark its location.”

“Already on it,” adds Lana as she kneels to the ground, swinging her backpack to her front, and removing a map, quill and magically sealed ink pot. With the piece of parchment spread out on the ground and using her finger as a guide, Lana re-traces their movement from camp to their current location to the best of her ability. “This should be where we are... more or less,” and turns to look up at Solas. “What do you think?”

Solas leans down slightly with his arms across his back as he peers towards the map, “Hmm…” and pauses to do his own assessment. “Close. I would say just three more finger-spaces to the left.”

“Ma serannas,” remarks Lana as she adjusts her finger’s position on the map and then uses her other hand to magically unseal the ink pot beside her. Taking the quill, Lana dips it into the ink pot and scratches a neatly marked ‘X’ just above her finger. “There. Hopefully the scouts will find it.”

“They will,” remarks Cassandra looking out over land ahead of them. “Let us be off then. We still have a lot of ground to cover.”

Lana then puts everything back into her backpack just as she retrieved them, and stands to her feet, “Alright, let’s go.” 

With questions still itching at the back of Cassandra’s mind however, she attempts to ask Solas another question, “I have also wondered… how did you know to approach us, Solas? The Breach opened, we were scrambling and barely had time to think… and there you were.”

“I went to see the Breach for myself,” remarks Solas casually. “I did not know you would be there.”

“You must not have been far away.”

“I was not. I’d come to hear of the Conclave, but did not want to get close.”

Cassandra turns her gaze towards Solas with a subtle, cautious frown, “Hmm... Lucky for us, then.”

As the group continue their way through the land, they suddenly reach a clearing to find a mage fighting off a demon on their own. 

“We must help!” cries Lana as she immediately runs ahead of the party, who then quickly follow her lead. 

As Lana reaches the fight first, she quickly connects to the Fade and draws from its magic to create a large fireball at the top of her staff. With her stance firmly planted on the ground, she swings her staff in a wide arc, and releases the fireball towards the demon that perfectly hits the perverted spirit’s center. The demon shrieks out, in what Lana can only perceive as pain, and watches it to evaporate into tiny particles of ash until nothing is left. 

With the demon now destroyed, Lana and her company sheath their weapons as they approach the stranger. As they reach closer however, Lana suddenly catches her breath as she notices the stranger wearing green armour with an intricately laced pattern upon their robe, similar to hers, and the all-to-familiar vallaslin of her god, June. The beautiful earthy and subtly red in colour design starts from the forehead, travelling down the cheeks and connecting to the wing of each eye with a single stroke. And then to perfectly balance the symmetrical tattoo, begins a single line that travels from the chin down towards the neck. 

_ Just like Tamara’s.  _

“Adaran athis’an,” greets the stranger looking pleasantly surprised, fulling Lana’s heart with immeasurable warmth over the simple use of the greeting her people use. “I did not expect to see another Dalish blood here.”

“Adaran athis’an,” begins Lana with a sincere smile in return. “I  _ also _ did not expect to see another one of the People here. I’m El’lana Aemma, First to Keeper Deshanna of clan Lavellan, but you may call me Lana, lethallan,” and then turns around to introduce the rest of her company one by one. “This is Cassandra Pentaghast, Varric Tethras and Solas.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you all,” remarks the Dalish stranger with a smile. “My name is Mihris, First to Keeper Thelhen of clan Virnehn. By your weapons, I can see you come ready for battle. Perhaps we face a common enemy with these demons?”

“Are you fighting the demons on your own?” cries Cassandra with alarm.

“Fighting the demons is pointless,” answers Mihris with a shrug of her shoulders as she turns to regard Cassandra. “There will always be more. And I have no means of closing the rifts,” then refocuses her gaze on Lana. “But I have heard of elvhen artefacts that measure the veil, lethallan. It may tell us where new rifts may appear but I was not expecting so many demons however. I believe one of the artefacts is nearby. Can you help me reach it?”

With a wide, excited smile Lana exclaims, “Creators! I believe we are looking for the same artefact! Do you know where it is?”

“Truly? Then perhaps we were destined to cross paths. I believe it is just up the path here, behind some rubble that needs moving. Shall we investigate together?”

“Solas!” exclaims Lana with enthusiasm as she turns to meet his gaze. “That must be the place, because that sounds exactly—” but quickly manages to stop herself from mentioning that it was actually a  _ Spirit _ which told Solas where to find it. “Where... we... also believe it is hidden,” and bashfully turns back around to regard Mihris. “It definitely sounds worth investigating.” 

“Ma serannas,” murmurs Mihris with a respectful nod as she brings out her staff from her side to use as a walking stick. “It shouldn’t be too far ahead.”

With the party steadily following Mihris’s lead, Lana brings herself to Mihris’s right hand side. Even though Mihris may be a stranger in all sense of the word, for Lana to be around another fellow Dalish after all this time, makes her feel so comforted. 

Mihris, in her green Dalish armour and vallaslin, makes Lana feel slightly less alone for the first time in months. Knowing that this encounter will most likely last only a short while, Lana begins to treasure Mihris’s company before she is the only one of her people around in a world of humans once again. 

“Thank you for joining me,” murmurs Mihris as she looks out ahead. “I do not think I could have done this alone.”

“What took you away from your clan?”

Mihris pauses for a moment and sighs with a heavy heart, “They were all killed by a demon our Keeper was foolish enough to summon. I am the only survivor of clan Virnehn.”

Lana turns towards Mihris in complete shock as she can only imagine the gut wrenching pain and anguish she must be going through.

“Mihris...” murmurs Lana eventually as she hesitantly rests a gentle hand on Mihris’s shoulder. “Ir abelas, lethallan. Ar las Falon’Din enasal enaste.”

Mihris looks towards Lana with a sincere but meek smile, “Ma serannas. They have found true peace now.”

“What have you been doing since? Where will you go?”

“I was searching for another clan that would take me in when the Breach appeared. Now, I’m doing whatever I can to help with this madness.”

Then suddenly, and before Lana could offer Mihris a place to help within the Inquisition, large boulders blocking the entrance to something in the mountains ahead begin to appear through the light mist, “I believe this is the place,” announces Mihris. “But we will need to remove this rubble. We will need focused, magical energy to get by.” 

Walking closer to the site, Lana notices that it isn’t fallen boulders but collapsed stone pillars, and clearly they were brought down deliberately, “Well, that won’t be a problem,” remarks Lana as she eyes the rubble carefully. “They seem to just be fallen pillars. I’ll put them back together.” 

“Herald,” remarks Cassandra from behind. “Do you even possess such skill?”

Lana turns around towards Cassandra and smirks, “My Keeper and I had to move our clans aravels all across the forests, Cassandra. This is easy.” 

With the rest of the party at a distance, Lana fans her arms out and draws from the Fade. Her hands begin to illuminate with bright turquoise energy, and with her stance placed firmly on the ground, she slowly lifts her arms up towards the sky causing the broken pieces of the pillars to rattle and shift back into their original positions. 

“There,” remarks Lana as she places her hands upon her hips, turning towards Cassandra with a cheeky grin. “Good as—”

“Watch out!” cries Cassandra as she lunges towards Lana, placing her shield in front of them both just in time to deflect an oncoming magical attack. “Demons!”

As Lana peers above the shield, she notices two bright green wraiths within a dark room, illuminating the floor and other immediate objects closest to them as they hover above ground. Mihris immediately prepares a lighting charge on Lana’s left as Solas generates a fireball at the tip of his staff on her right. 

Meanwhile Varric has managed to gain some cover behind Lana and Cassandra flank and quickly prepares Bianca for action. 

Lana then casts a protective enchantment onto her companions and Mihris, and then steps out from behind Cassandra’s shield as she builds a large ball of magical energy.

With Mihris fighting the wraith closest to the entrance, Solas and Varric project a steady combination of fire and arrows at the other one further in. Meanwhile, Cassandra is standing ready with her sword and shield drawn for anything else should it come leaping out.

Following Mihris’s electric storm, Lana fires several quick spells toward the wraith as it spasms from electric shock, eventually causing it to disintegrate. And with the quick and lethal combination of fire and arrows, the second and last wraith cries in high pitch shrieks as it also disappears causing the room to fall back into pitch black darkness.

“Everyone alright?” asks Varric as he keeps Bianca ready just in case. 

The group simultaneously shake their heads in agreement and cautiously walk towards the entrance, sticking to the sides.

“Wait.” whispers Lana as she picks up a stone from the ground and tosses it inside. The group then patiently waits and listens to the pebble bounce around inside before eventually settling somewhere within. After a moment of silence, Cassandra decides to enter first with her shield up and sword drawn. Following her lead is Varric, Solas, Lana and then Mihris. 

With the room's darkness closing in around them, Solas illuminates the tip of his staff to help light up the entire room. To the parties surprise, the room is actually a lot smaller than they were expecting. Only having taken a few steps in, they are already in the centre of the room that soon ends with a rather large and strange statue. About two-to-three people tall, the statue is of a strong, headless man proudly holding the head of what appears to be some kind of beast. And lying on the ground directly underneath is a collection of perfectly placed skulls, and a small archway on either side leading somewhere further into the ruins. 

As the rest of the group take in their surroundings, Lana begins to relax slightly and walks towards the statue and murmurs to herself, “The Veil is so thin here…” and begins to look about the room. “I wonder… ” and then spots an old handle for a torch on her immediate left. 

With a wave of her hand, Lana lights the torch with green fire. Lana’s smile widens over her correct suspicion as she stands illuminated by its bright, unusual light. 

“What manner of fire  _ is _ that?” cries Cassandra as she hurries her way towards Lana, causing the rest of the group to slowly gather around the green flame.

“I have heard of this, but never seen it before,” murmurs Solas as he admires its beautiful, dancing colors. “It is called—“

“Veilfire,” interjects Lana as she continues to look into the flame. “It’s simply the memory of a flame that can burn in this world where the veil is thin. My Keeper and I have come across a few places like this before where this was possible.”

Cassandra looks around the group and remains unconvinced by the apparent safe nature of the magical fire. 

“It is a form of sympathetic magic, Seeker,” remarks Solas as he tries to convince Cassandra. “Nothing to worry about,” and then looks around the room and notices three candles by the statue. With a wave of his hand the candles also light up with the same green flame as the torch. “See? Perfectly harmless.”

“Okay, okay,” remarks Varric lifting his hands into the air. “I think that’s enough magic fire for now.” 

“Agreed.” murmurs Cassandra looking from Solas and back towards Lana who is now reaching up, standing on her toes, to take the torch off the wall. “Herald!”

“So, we’re taking the magical fire with us then?” quips Varric unimpressed. 

With the torch in hand, Lana simply looks at Cassandra and Varric with a sympathetic grin and laughs. Even Solas cannot help himself but share a quick grin at their ignorance. 

“Good thinking, lethallan,” remarks Mihris as she makes her way past the group and through the archway. “Show we continue?”

Following Mihris’s lead, Lana and her companions soon find themselves in a much larger room with its walls stretching up at least twenty people tall. And sprouting in the centre of the ruin, through the cracks in the ceiling, are large tree roots which have pushed some of the earth away allowing some natural light to fall through. 

“More demons.” murmurs Mihris as she quickly spots them up ahead, causing Lana to quickly extinguish the magical fire. 

The group huddle together, crouching down in the darkness, and prepare for a battle plan, “Okay, I see only two wraiths and two shade demons,” begins Cassandra. “Which means there are four of them and five of us. So, this should be manageable. Varric and Solas, guard my flank as I charge for the shades. Herald, you take the wraith on the left, and Mihris you take the other one on the right.” 

The group simultaneously nod in agreement over the strategy and remove their staffs and weapons for another fight. With their weapons now drawn, the group slowly moves in the darkness together and stops just before reaching the beams of light from the ceiling. Lana and Mihris then split from the others and carefully make their way into position in the shadows. 

After waiting for the two mages to get into position, Cassandra then lunges into a sprint as she runs towards the centre of the ruin with Varric and Solas charging behind her. Just before reaching the shade demons, Solas dispels a protective ward over the three of them as Varric fires a couple of unsuccessful arrows. 

With a loud impactful thud that echoes throughout the ruin, Cassandra bashes into the closest shade demon, knocking it slightly off balance. However, she is quickly overwhelmed with the second one thrashing its claw-like fingers towards her face as she holds up her shield for protection. Luckily, Solas quickly shoots a ball of fire into its face which causes it to flail backwards and scratch at the flames engulfing its monstrous appearance. 

Meanwhile, Lana decides to take the opportunity with the roots hanging from the ceiling to her advantage. She closes her eyes and connects with the Fade to create the magic she’ll use to control the vines to her will. With the earth-green magic built to a decent size in her hand, she flails the magic out towards the dangling roots and immediately feels her connection with them. 

To the wraith’s demise, and the group's surprise, Lana flings the roots down towards the floating demon and wraps them around its green opaque body. Manipulating her hand’s movement, she tightens her grip on the wraith and crushes it to death. As the wraith now lies dead in her root hold, she slowly releases the tension and watches it disintegrate into thin air, as if it were never there. 

Mihris then finishes her wraith off by shooting tall, razor sharp spikes of solid ice up from the ground and through the wraith, leaving it dead and impaled as it slowly disappears into nothing. 

With her wraith gone, Lana looks about the room and notices all the other demons have been destroyed, too, “Well, that was rather quick” and puts away her staff to pick up the torch from the ground before running towards the centre of the room to meet with the others. The roots meanwhile go back to their original position as if they weren’t just used to crush a demon to death. 

“That was a nice technique Mihris,” remarks Lana as they cross paths. “I liked those ice spikes you did before.”

“Ma serannas,” thanks Mihris as they walk towards the group together. “It’s one of my favourites. And I see your Keeper taught you well, lethallan. I am yet to master that one myself.” 

“Yes, my Keeper is an excellent teacher,” concurs Lana proudly as they reach the group in the centre of the ruin. “But I wouldn’t say I’m a master at it. There is still so much I need to learn.”

“Well, you could have fooled me!” quips Varric as he folds his arms across his chest. “Maker kid, that was actually quite impressive.” 

“I’ve seen that spell used before in my journeys, Herald,” remarks Solas with a gentle smile. “It is not an easy one. Varric is indeed right, that was quite impressive.” 

Feeling proud but embarrassed by the unexpected praise, Lana blushes and only manages to release a soft smile. 

“Now then,” begins Cassandra sheathing her sword. “Let us search for this artefact. I do not want to be in here any longer than necessary.” 

“Do you know what the artefact looks like?” wonders Lana as she looks towards Mihris.

“I do.” interjects Solas just before Mihris can answer. “If I am remembering correctly, it is a fairly large, round object. It should look like a dark crystal with square-like edges prodding out from the sides.”

“Well, that’s…” remarks Lana with a perplexed expression. “Awfully specific. I can’t imagine too many things like that lying around.” 

“Let us hope not.” grumbles Cassandra as she begins to cautiously search about the room, which then encourages the others to stop talking and do the same. 

As the group splits up, they all quickly notice the continued choice of decor: skulls, skulls and more skulls. Also, urns. But for Lana, the site of such decrepit items does not bother or surprise her in the slightest. Throughout the Free Marches, she has come across several ruins that once belonged to her people that now look like this. However, the one thing she isn’t used to seeing on the ground often are the markings of what could only be a blood magic summoning circle.

_ Well, this explains the demons.  _

Lana then moves to the top left corner of ruin but quickly finds it hard to see. So remembering she still has the torch, she waves her hand across the top and it lights up with the same green colour as before. As she begins searching around the rubble, urns, and skulls, Lana soon finds something that isn’t the artefact, but something else entirely. 

“Solas!” calls Lana from across the ruin. “Come and see this!”

Solas hurries along and with Cassandra close by, she also decides to see what all the fuss is about. Under the glow of the green fire, subtle highlights upon a large, flat stone begin to illuminate with an iridescent sparkle as the three companions carefully inspect the site.

“Incredible,” begins Solas as he leans in closer, almost touching the stone. “Bring the fire closer,” and so Lana steps further towards the glowing stone as instructed and witnesses a rune slowly come to life. It’s full imagery now crisp and clean, and Solas turns to Lana with a smile. “The veilfire must be making the rune legible.” 

Having only studied runes before but never seen one in person, Lana remembers reading that one should place their hand onto the rune to absorb its knowledge and power. However, this can only be done once and never again. 

“That looks like a weapon enchantment,” adds Cassandra with excitement. “This could be quite useful.”

Taking another step forward, Lana brings her free hand out and places her palm with her fingers spread out onto the stone. The colour of the rune quickly subdues to dull green and a red diamond shape soon overlays the rune, indicating that the enchantment has been used up. 

“How do you feel?” wonders Solas as he looks towards Lana.

“Fine…” answers Lana as she looks at her hand. “I think—”

“Inquisition!” shouts Mihris from behind with Varric beside her. “I believe I found the artefact!”

Lana, Solas and Cassandra hurry towards Mihris and Varric, and soon find themselves standing above an object looking exactly as Solas had described. 

“If we activate that crystal,” remarks Mihris looking at Lana. “It should react to the strength of the veil.”

“Are we sure activating something we don’t fully understand is a good idea?” remarks Varric appearing quite uneasy.

“This is definitely the artefact,” remarks Solas confidently. “There is no need to concern yourself, Varric.” 

Varric simply shakes his head and folds his arms across his chest, “Does anyone here even  _ know _ how to activate this thing properly?”

“As it so happens Master Tethras,” begins Solas as he leans down towards the artefact. “I have seen it used several times in my travels. It is a simple spell and won’t it take long at all.” 

Solas lifts both hands up towards the artefact and green energy begins to swirl around his hands. He then touches the artefact and it lights up with the same magic, indicating it is now active, “Perfect. The wards are now helping to strengthen the veil,” and stands to his feet proudly. “This area should be safer for travelers now.”

“Well,” remarks Mihris with a smile. “That should prove useful,” and then bends down to pick up a golden necklace just beside the artefact. “And it seems the ancestors left something for me as well,” and brings it closer to her face for inspection before placing it around her neck. 

“Let us not push our luck any further,” demands Cassandra as she starts walking away. “And get out of here.” 

The group readily agrees and begins to make their way out the same way they entered. And just before reaching the entrance, Lana extinguishes the magical flame and leaves the torch behind. 

With everyone back outside in one piece, Mihris turns to face Lana and her companions, “Well, I believe our alliance is concluded. Go in peace. Dareth shiral.” and turns to leave. 

Suddenly and unexpectedly, Solas steps forward and murmurs something to Mihris in elvish, “Ma halani. Ma Glandival. Vir Enasalin.”

Mihris looks at Solas and then down at the necklace around her chest, and then back towards the group, “I…perhaps you are right,” and takes the necklace off and hands it to him. “Here, take it.”

Solas takes the necklace and walks back to the others. As Mihris turns to leave again however, Lana runs past Solas and places her hand on Mihris’s shoulder, “You don’t have to leave. You can come with us.” 

Mihris offers a sincere smile of gratitude, “Ma serannas, lethallan. While your offer is very kind, I believe I will be more useful elsewhere. May the gods watch over you in the days to come and let us hope our paths cross again one day. Mythal’enaste.” 

Knowing she is not going to be able to change Mihris’s mind, Lana offers a respectful head bow, “Mythal’enaste, lethallan. Take care of yourself. Dareth shiral.”

With Mihris now almost out of sight, Lana begins to yearn for her clan as she is reminded just how much she misses her family. Meanwhile Solas is remembering how it was not that long ago that he had no choice but to neutralize one of his closest friends. Mihris might not have been the reason his friend made the decision to betray him, but her very existence reminds him of the events that lead to the day he wishes he could forget.

~~~

“Good evening, Herald,” remarks Solas as he sits down next to Lana by the campfire, holding a bowl of evening’s dinner. “It seems today was quite the success. Congratulations.” 

Lana turns her gaze from the gentle, dancing flames and offers a meek, tired smile, “It appears so,” and peers over into Solas’s bowl. “What’s for dinner?”

“From what I can gather,” Solas brings his food closer to his face and inspects it with a curious eye before turning to Lana with a stern expression. “Rabbit’s foot and nug’s eyeballs.”

Lana simply stares blankly at Solas with neither one of them saying anything for a moment, “Wha—?” and then watches Solas release a small, mischievous grin. “Oh, Creators. You’re joking!” 

Solas releases a soft chuckle and Lana joins him as the flames keep them warm in an otherwise cold evening. 

Digging his fork into his steaming bowl, Solas manages to break off a piece of food, “It is actually roasted ram with rice,” and brings it to his mouth to eat. 

“That sounds rather good actually.” murmurs Lana as she turns her gaze from Solas and back into the flames.

After swallowing, Solas notices Lana’s somber demeanor, “Is everything alright, Herald?” 

Without removing her gaze, Lana brings her knees and arms up towards her chest, “I’m okay,” and turns to quickly offer a forced smile. “Thanks.”

Solas puts his bowl down and looks out towards the fire, “I am always willing to lend an ear, da’len,” and turns to look at Lana with gentle, kind eyes. “Should you need it.” 

Lana buries her face into her arms, revealing only her large, lavender eyes and soft, violet vallaslin as her hair is swept to the one side, “I just miss my family.” 

“I understand. Has Liliana managed to find your clan?”

“No. But I do keep writing to them as often as I can just in case she does find them.” 

“She will find them.”

“How do you know that?”

“Well, I don’t know that she will for certain. However, based on what her scouts have already managed to do for the Inquisition so far, I believe there is a strong possibility your clan will be found and informed of your survival. So, don’t stop writing.” 

Lana turns to face Solas as she lifts her head up to offer a sincere smile before looking back at the whipping flames and crackling firewood. 

“You are doing well, Herald,” continues Solas. “Given where you have come from and what you have been put through thus far, I am… pleased you have handled your position with humility and thoughtfulness. Not blundered your way with arrogance and prowess.” 

“Ma serannas, Solas,” murmurs Lana and turns to meet his gaze. “That means a lot coming from you.” 

“From me?”

“Yes. You have seen so much in the Fade, and you say things sometimes that makes me think you are perhaps even wiser than my Keeper. Which isn’t something I would ever say lightly.” 

“Well, eh… thank you. It is good to know someone sees some value in what I have to say. It usually isn’t the case, unfortunately.” 

After a quiet moment between them, Lana releases a soft smile as she stands up, “I’m going to get some dinner. Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

Not too far from the campfire, Varric is crafting some arrows for Bianca as Cassandra is sharpening her sword with a wet stone. As Varric finishes tying up an arrow head, he unexpectedly notices Solas’s long, lingered gaze on Lana as she walks away from the campfire before focusing back on his meal. 

With a cheeky grin, Varric leans over towards Cassandra, “I think someone’s falling in love.” and makes suggestive eyes towards Solas’s direction.

Cassandra looks up from her sword, then towards Solas, then towards Lana, and then rolls her eyes before focusing back on her blade, “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“You know I’m always right about these things, Seeker.” 

Cassandra leans in slightly and whispers, “He was just giving the Herald advice. What is romantic about that?”

“Well,” remarks Varric as he takes another arrow. “You didn’t see what I just saw.” 

“Which is?”

“Love.” 

Cassandra groans again as she rolls her eyes and stands to leave with her sword in hand, “Good night, Varric.” and walks away. 

Varric however continues making arrows and takes one more look at Solas before shaking his head as he silently laughs amongst himself, “Maker, help him.” 

_**Elvish to English:** _

  * Andarin A’thisan = Greetings
  * Ma halani. Ma Glandival. Vir Enasalin. = Help me. You believe. 
  * Dareth Shiral = Farewell 




End file.
